Begin at the end: a Lazytown college tale
by Michael James Diction
Summary: Pixel, Ziggy, Trixie and Stingy battle addiction while Stephanie and Sporticus face trials of their own. Like nothing you've ever read. First fiction, so validate me with your reviews, por favor.
1. Chapter 1

Ch

_Ch. 1: A__lchemy_

"Do you think God forgives the committed?" Pixel asked Marcus while taking yet another hit off the glass pipe.

"Forgiveness? You mean if we die in this room surrounded by base-heads, rotting food and 24 separate game consoles while the two of us have a combined GPA of 0.8 and should be in Western Civ?"

"Uh-huh."

"If we had to stand before the Almighty smelling like KFC dipped in feces would He open His arms to us?"

"Yeah!" Pixie enthused, sporting a Wiimote in one hand, a Playstation controller in the other. "We've chosen a path and we walk it no matter where it leads! God has to understand commitment like that. Any man who created the world in 6 days knows what dedication to a cause is all about."

"Crack Rock is not a Cause, Pixel. You haven't come up with any new inventions since orientation and the dean isn't gonna let you get by on your good intensions"

Pixel placed the dueling systems on pause and looked around the room. He took it all in: the maggot-infested bags of McDonalds, the stacks of unopened mail, and the random freebasers strewn about the floor like Civil War re-enactors. regarding his friend in an unusually dramatic fashion, he turned his tired eyes to Marcus and sighed.

"Then maybe you should pray for an end to need, holy boy."

Marcus was a religious studies major, Pixel a scientist. They had met at Lazytown High in 9th grade where the emaciated, moca-skinned and soft spokenly pious young man had fallen hopelessly in love with the town's resident Gizmo Guy from the moment he first laid eyes on him. This meant conversations that made sense to no one else but them, endless hours IMing one another while Pixel researched his latest projects, and most importantly for Marcus, sleepovers with the group he referred to as the S.P Disciples or the Followers of Sporticus. He knew in his heart that he would never be able to tell Pixel how he felt, but being able to sleep next to him on those nights- to wedge his sleeping bag between the massive modem and the object of his affections; inhaling his geeky scent while listening to the gentle hum of the computer, well, it made both his other friends and his all his problems seem a hundred miles away. Moments like those made him say to himself that he would follow his beautiful boy into hell and back… little did he know he would have to.


	2. Chapter 2

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_Ch. 2: The white stuff_

Ziggy, long famed for his epic sugar rushes and willingness to be lead, had recently happened upon a new source of energy a thousand times more potent than his usual diet of Skittles and Count Chocula.

"SPORTICUS!!" Ziggy bounded across the park to greet his idol. Though he was now a semester into his senior year, his enthusiasm for the blue elf had not waned one iota. He was the only one from the old group left in town, and he relished the opportunity to reconnect with the man who filled his childhood with song, dance and adventure.

"Hello Ziggy," Sporticus enthused after a bounding leap that Carl Lewis would envy brought him face to face with the towheaded 17 year old. "you've been eating your sports candy, haven't you?"

Ziggy blushed, for he alone knew the reason for his newly svelte physique and fiercely competitive nature:

Two months before, a mysterious purple figure had emerged from the dark area between the snack machines in the Lazy-High cafeteria. He told Ziggy his name was Roberto the Janitor and that he had been a chocolate factory worker in his native Colombia. "Try this on your cinnamon roll, Iggy," Roberto said grinning "it's a special seasoning for people who like their sweets extra sweet." Ziggy thought the white stuff looked strange, so rather than wolfing it down without preamble (as was his custom,) he lowered his nose onto the cinnabun and gave it a quick sniff.

"I'mrunninga10.2forthehundredyarddashanda4.8forthefiftyandIaskedcoachifIcandotworelaysandonemoresolosprintandI'mplayingadoubleheadertomarrowand…"

"Someone's in trouble! Gotta move! See you later Ziggy!" Suddenly, Sporticus was miles away.

If he appeared crestfallen, it wasn't genuine: it didn't matter a wit to Ziggy! He was ready to take on all comers. The cocaine had burned any trace of excess off of his formerly corpulent frame. Girls naturally cottoned to the twitchy boy with the fierce drive to win.

He didn't need Sporticus after all! He could be a hero just like he had wanted to be during the bygone days of the cape and the emblem. Sporticus was just another face that came and went as the days flew by. All that concerned Ziggy was the fate of the race.

District competition had commenced at 7 in the morning. Since his first event, the hundred, would not be run until noon, the young man indulged in his usual breakfast of two lines, a carrot and a cliff bar.

The hours passed and Ziggy suddenly found himself on the starting line waiting for the gun. He lowered himself into the blocks and listened for the crack that immediately followed the trigger. When it came, he was surprised to feel it as well as hear it as his heart exploded in his chest.

He dropped to the track.


End file.
